Chapter 12 Presley
Presley
I tied Etienne's creased shirt at my waist, the fabric still held a faint scent of him even after I hand-washed it yesterday. The knot sat just above my belly button, and I paired it with my black leggings, the ones that didn’t look threadbare on my arse.
My feet padded across the cool parquet floor of the hallway as I made my way to the stairs.
The smell of coffee and something sweet hit me before I reached the dining room.
All three of them were already there.
Hastings sat at the head of the table in a charcoal shirt that pulled over his arms and shoulders. As usual, his hair was perfectly styled, his gray eyes fixed on the newspaper folded beside his plate.
Fritz lounged in his chair like he'd never heard of proper posture while he scrolled through his phone with one hand, a piece of toast in the other.
Etienne’s fork paused mid air. His plate had enough food to feed a small army. His hair damp from the shower, and he was dressed in training gear that clung to muscles.
My face heated.
"Good morning," I said, sliding into the empty chair.
Three sets of eyes locked onto me.
Etienne's gaze dropped to his shirt, tied at my waist. His nostrils flared.
"Morning, Princesse." His voice was rougher than usual.
Fritz grinned. "Sleep well?"
"Better than I have in months." I reached for the coffee pot, pouring myself a cup. The steam curled up, and I breathed it in. Real coffee. Not the instant stuff from Tesco.
The table was laden with food. Pastries, fresh fruit, yogurt, toast, eggs, bacon. More food than I'd seen in one place outside of the café.
I picked up a strawberry, bit into it. The sweetness exploded on my tongue, and I closed my eyes.
A low sound escaped my throat.
I froze, my eyes snapping open.
All three alphas were staring at me.
Heat crawled up my neck. "Am I being noisy?"
Etienne set his fork down with more force than necessary. "Keep making those noises and I'll want to hear what other noises you make."
My breath caught.
"And I might join him," Fritz muttered, his eyes dark.
The blush spread from my neck to my cheeks, burning hot. I ducked my head, focusing very hard on the strawberry in my hand.
Hastings cleared his throat. The sound cut through the tension like a blade.
I glanced up to find him watching me, his jaw tight.
"Miss Prince."
"Presley," I corrected automatically. "You’ll be getting me pregnant in my next heat, I think we're past formalities."
Fritz choked on his coffee.
Hastings' lips pressed into a thin line, something flickered in his eyes. Amusement, maybe.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a black card. He set it on the table between us, sliding it across the polished wood.
I stared at it.
"What's that?"
"A credit card."
"I know what it is. Why are you giving it to me?"
"For necessities." His voice was clipped, businesslike. "And whatever else you need."
I picked up the card, turning it over. My name was embossed on the front. Presley Prince. The letters gleamed in the morning light.
"When did you..."
"I always get what I want, Miss Prince."
"I can't accept this." I set it back down like it might explode. “I might spend too much.”
“Spend as much as you want.”
"What if I buy a house by accident and leave this arrangement today?"
"But you won't, and nobody ever bought a house by accident.”
"How do you know?"
Hastings leaned back in his chair, his gray eyes boring into mine. "I just do. I think you like being here."
My heart kicked against my ribs. "I've been here one day."
His lips quirked. It was small, barely there, but it was a smile.
I took that as a win.
He was silent for a moment as I stared at the card.
"Where would you buy a house?" He sounded genuinely curious now, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
"I don't know."
"You must know. Somewhere close to your family?"
The word landed heavy in my chest. I swallowed, my fingers tightening around my coffee cup.
"I don't have any family." I looked at the three of them, these alphas who'd given me more in one day than I'd had in years.
“Nobody?” Hastings asked.
"I told you. I only need a cat and somewhere to call mine. Maybe I'd build a bookshelf and have enough money to buy all the special editions I see in the charity shops."
Fritz set down his toast. "You're pretty basic."
I laughed, the sound breaking the tension as I slammed my hand on my chest. "I'm wounded.”
“I mean that you have simple wants.”
“A house and a cat aren’t simple.”
"Apart from a house and a cat, what else do you need?" Hastings asked, and there was something in his voice that made my throat tight.
I thought about it. About what I actually wanted, not what I thought I should want.
"Clothes that fit," I said slowly. "Boots that don't leak. Maybe a coat that doesn't smell like someone else."
Etienne moved around the table, his hand landing on my shoulder. The weight of it steadied me.
"Then you'll get those things."
“I can? But I wouldn't know where to start."
“I can arrange for a personal shopper,” Hastings said.
"Or… Maeve." The name slipped out before I could stop it. "She'll know what I should buy. I've never bought nice things, but Maeve turned up at the caravan park with a fancy suitcase full of nice clothes and perfumes…"
I trailed off, thinking about that. About how a woman with designer luggage ended up hiding in a caravan park in North Yorkshire.
"Call her," Hastings said. "Tell her the helicopter will be with her in two hours."
My head snapped up. "The helicopter?"
"Unless you'd prefer she take the train." His tone was dry.
"You're sending a helicopter to pick up my friend so we can go shopping."
"Is that a problem?"
I stared at him. At the immaculate suit, his cold gray eyes, and the way he was offering me the world like it was nothing.
"No," I whispered. "No problem."
The men stood, gathering their things. Hastings buttoned his jacket. Fritz pocketed his phone. Etienne pressed a kiss to the top of my head before he left like it was the most natural thing in the world.
My hand pressed there and he laughed.
"Have fun, Princesse."
Then I was alone in the dining room with a black AmEx card and a phone that suddenly felt very heavy in my hand.
I dialed Maeve's number. She answered on the second ring.
"Please tell me you're okay," she said immediately. "I've been checking the news for reports of omega-napping or if there was a big omega sale in Dubai."
"I'm fine. Better than fine."
"Define 'better than fine.'"
I looked at the card on the table. "I have a magic card."
We were both silent for a beat.
"What?"
"A black AmEx. And you're coming shopping with me. Be ready in two hours."
Maeve screamed so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear.
"Are you serious right now? Presley Prince, if you're joking I will—"
"There's a helicopter coming to get you."
More screaming.
I laughed, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in my chest.
"I'll be ready," Maeve said, her voice breathless. "Wear comfortable shoes. We're going to make those alphas regret giving you that card."
She hung up, and I sat there in the quiet townhouse, holding a credit card that had no limit and wearing a shirt that belonged to an alpha who made me feel things I didn't know I could feel.
My phone buzzed with a text.
Maeve: This is either the best day of my life or you're about to get us both arrested. Either way, I'm in. I love shopping. And you're buying me the fanciest lunch in London.
Me: I’m being paid 5k a week, I think I can afford to buy you lunch.
Maeve: Jeez! I wish I’d answered the ad now.
I smiled, pocketing the card and heading upstairs to find those comfortable shoes.
Two hours until the helicopter arrived.
Two hours until I figured out what unlimited access really meant.